


Conduct Unbecoming

by AHumanFemale, Robin Hood (kjack89)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - JAG, Alternate Universe - Military, M/M, Military Jargon, Military Justice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-29 11:42:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15072428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHumanFemale/pseuds/AHumanFemale, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: “Who’s defending?” Rafael interrupted, irritated."Actually—““Maj. Barba!”Rafael closed his eyes and tried not to groan as the harsh Staten Island accent was followed by the sound of hurried footsteps heading toward him.  “Don’t tell me,” he sighed, more to himself than to Carmen, who looked like she was trying not to laugh.“Lt. Carisi is handling the defense,” she told him, rather unnecessarily.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure: As we're certain will shock and surprise all of you, neither AHF or RH are in the military (though RH's brother is), and neither of us are particularly well-acquainted with the military court martial process. Most of our information was taken from the Uniform Code of Military Justice, the Navy-Marine Corps Trial Judiciary benchbook, and the TV show JAG.
> 
> So we probably got some stuff wrong.
> 
> That being said, hopefully you enjoy our favorite lawyer boyfriends in an entirely different legal context.
> 
> Second chapter should be posted over the weekend or early next week. Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!
> 
> xoxo, AHF and RH.

“Good morning, Major Barba.”

Rafael had coffee in one hand and a file under the other, striding past Carmen’s desk on his way to his office door.  She smirked at him from the side of her mouth, eyes hardly coming up from her screen as she worked. He could just see his calendar pulled up, undoubtedly filled with pissed off defense officers gnashing their teeth after two weeks of delay.  Rafael knew Carmen knew  _ him  _ well enough to that they would be pushed to later in the week.  First, to piss them off further, and second so that he can spend the first day back in court where he belonged.

How he’d managed to luck out with an assistant so fantastic, he’d never know.

“Good morning,” he replied easily, offering a smirk of his own, and found he meant it.  

It was a good morning.

He’d slept like a rock, he was well caffeinated and firmly on his way to more.  His mother had left him enough food in his refrigerator to feed him for a week. The sun was shining on the Atlantic and the summer’s oppressive heat hadn’t managed to touch him, even under his perfectly pressed uniform.

It was also his first day back after a two week vacation - a two week vacation that was pathetically overdue, forced on him by Admiral McCoy.  Granted, it was after an outburst at a judge, but Rafael was inclined to consider that a part of the vacation too. He’d enjoyed it too much for it to have been considered work.  

His office was exactly how he’d left it weeks ago, clean with a Spartan sort of demeanor about it.  The only thing out of sorts was that the desktop had been cleared, files locked away in his desk or in Carmen’s file cabinets to wait for his return.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the polished wood surface. Typically it was buried beneath a computer and his notes and the old black telephone in the corner, still unblinking because it had yet to make it around the office that he was back.  

Rafael savored the sight for a moment, took in a deep breath and let the smell of paper and coffee linger in his nose as he grounded himself.

It lasted fifteen seconds.

Fifteen amazing seconds before the first shrill burst of sound erupted from the phone and he heard Carmen’s determined knocking on the glass of his door behind him.  The woman marched into the room with a stack of cases in her arms and an amused quirk of her lips.

“That’s Buchanan, feel free to ignore it.”

“Why is he calling already?” Rafael asked, preemptively put-upon.

“Because he’s angry that he’s been moved to the last appointment time on Friday, which you always cancel, and he knows that because he’s always your last appointment on Friday.”

He grinned at her.

“Remind me to put in for your raise this afternoon.”

“Already done, sir.”

“Walk with me?”

“Already moving, sir.”

En route to the courtroom, Carmen matched his pace and rattled off her knowledge of the cases up for arraignment.  Two instances of desertion, three of assault. One of battery. No murders, thankfully. And then, near the bottom of the pile and slated at the very end of the day, was a case for fraternization and conduct unbecoming an officer.  

“Is this new?” Rafael asked, confused.  

“No, sir.”

“So why hasn’t this been a pretrial agreement?” he asked, dismayed and annoyed.  A plea would have taken him ten minutes, tops. Particularly with these charges.

“If I’m not mistaken, the defense is attempting to make a point.”

“Make a point?” he repeated, stopping in the busy hallway to level an unamused stare at her.  “I’m sorry, when did we go back to law school? Did the bench start issuing bonus points while I was gone?”

Carmen looked almost amused at his outburst, and Rafael thought it was to her credit that she tactfully chose not to bring up any of his many attempts to prove a point in the courtroom.  “Well, I think the defense—“

“Who’s defending?” Rafael interrupted, irritated.  “Calhoun? Because I thought her days of making points were long behind her after she started gunning for a political promotion.”

“Actually—“

“Maj. Barba!”

Rafael closed his eyes and tried not to groan as the harsh Staten Island accent was followed by the sound of hurried footsteps heading toward him.  “Don’t tell me,” he sighed, more to himself than to Carmen, who looked like she was trying not to laugh.

“Lt. Carisi is handling the defense,” she told him, rather unnecessarily, and Rafael sighed once more before turning to greet the man headed in his direction.

Rafael’s lips pursed somewhat automatically as JAG corp’s most enthusiastic lawyer approached, an easy grin on his face.  When Lieutenant Junior Grade Dominick “Call me Sonny” Carisi has first started at JAG, straight out of Naval Justice School and with a horrible mustache that, while technically regulation, Rafael had proclaimed as a disgrace to the uniform, Rafael had given him six months before he transferred to a different unit.

To his surprise, Carisi had not only stuck around through his promotion to Lieutenant but was even making a reputation for himself of taking hard-to-defend cases — and more often than not, pulling out a win.

A reputation Rafael would’ve respected much more if he didn’t have the same reputation to uphold, albeit on the prosecution’s side.

“Lieutenant,” he greeted coolly when Carisi reached him.  “I hear you’re doing political grandstanding now.”

Carisi rolled his eyes.  “Frat and conduct unbecoming?” he scoffed.  “You and I both know if it were a male superior with a female inferior, everyone would be looking the other way.”  Rafael arched an eyebrow and Carisi hastily tacked on, “Sir.”

“I sincerely hope that your defense rests squarely on that line of argument,” Rafael said, amused despite himself.  “You’ll make my job very, very easy.”

For a moment, it looked like Carisi was going to argue that point before his dimples flashed as he again smiled at Rafael.  “Nah,” he said easily. “Wouldn’t wanna spoil the show for you.”

“Is that so,” Rafael murmured with a smirk of his own, trying not to appreciate the lines of Carisi’s uniform after two weeks of being unable to.  “I guess we’ll find out.”

* * *

 

And find out he did.

At first, the arraignment hearing proceeded as usual.  Rafael was pleased to see that the presiding judge was Judge Elana Barth, well-known for her no-nonsense attitude and hopefully willing to mandate that they work out some kind of agreement, given the facts of the case.

The defendant looked nervous, smoothing the skirt of her service dress uniform as she stood, and Rafael watched with slightly narrowed eyes as Carisi squeezed her arm reassuringly.

Barth surveyed them evenly as she sat.  “I am detailed to this court-martial by the Circuit Military Judge of the Northern Judicial Circuit, the Navy-Marine Corps Trial Judiciary,” she announced.  “I am certified and sworn as a military judge in accordance with Articles 26 (b) and (c) and 42 (a) of the UCMJ. I am not aware of any matter that I believe may be a ground for challenge against me.  Does either side desire to question or challenge me?”

“No, Your Honor,” Rafael said.

“No, ma’am,” Carisi told her.

Barth nodded at Rafael.  “The accused will now be arraigned.  Maj. Barba, are there any corrections or addition to the charges or specifications?”

Rafael spared a cursory glance at the file in front of him.  “No, Your Honor.”

Barth switched her gaze to Carisi, who squared his shoulders.  “Does the Defense desire the charges and specifications to be read?”

Rafael was so used to the reading being waived that he did what had to have been a fairly comical double-take when Carisi said firmly, “Yes, Your Honor.  The accused wants the charges and specifications read.”

Apparently, Rafael wasn’t the only one to be taken aback by that, as Barth blinked at Carisi before glancing at Rafael.  “Very well,” she said. “Accused and counsel please rise. The trial counsel will now read the charges and specifications.”

“Lieutenant Junior Grade Elizabeth Peters has been charged with fraternization and conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman,” Rafael read, looking over at Carisi when he finished.  Carisi’s expression remained mostly impassive but something tightened in his client’s expression.

If Barth noticed the look, she ignored it, instead glancing back at her notes before continuing, “Lt. Peters, how do you plead?”

Carisi lifted his chin just slightly.  “The accused pleads not guilty to both charges.”

“Lt. Peters, has your counsel correctly stated your pleas?”

Lt. Peters glanced up at Carisi, who met her gaze evenly.  Rafael watched the entire exchange closely, ready to object the moment it seemed like Carisi was coaching her, but Carisi’s expression didn’t so much as flicker, and the lieutenant looked back at Bath.  “Yes, Your Honor.”

Barth seemed satisfied by that.  “You may be seated,” she said, shuffling her notes.  “Defense Counsel, is there a pretrial agreement in this case?”

“No, Your Honor,” Carisi said, and Rafael managed to resist the urge to roll his eyes.  Barely.

Barth raised her eyebrows but made no comment as she looked at Rafael.  “Maj. Barba, do you concur that there are no agreements?”

Rafael couldn’t help but give Carisi a slightly sour look as he responded, “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Very well,” Barth said.  “Is there a stipulation of fact?”

“No, Your Honor,” Rafael started, at the exact same moment that Carisi stood, smoothing his hand down the front of his white jacket as he said, “Yes, Your Honor.”

Rafael glared at him.  “Your Honor,” he said, “the trial counsel was party to no stipulation of fact.”

Unless Rafael was mistaken, Carisi had the balls to  _ smirk _ at him in court, and Rafael’s glare deepened.  “All due respect to Maj. Barba, but the stipulation of fact was agreed to by his predecessor on this case.”

Barth sighed.  “Gentlemen, approach the bench,” she ordered, and Rafael scowled at Carisi as he stepped around the trial counsel’s table to follow Carisi to Barth’s bench.  “Is there a problem, Major?”

“Your Honor, Lt. Carisi has not made available any kind of stipulation agreed to by any previous trial counsel,” Rafael started, an irritated edge to his voice, and Barth raised an eyebrow at Carisi.

“Lieutenant?”

“Again, all due respect to Maj. Barba, as I know he’s just getting back into the swing of things,” Carisi started innocently, and Rafael glared at him, “but the stipulation should have been included with all relevant discovery and pre-trial notes.”

Barth sighed again, and Rafael got the feeling she had not had as much coffee that morning as she needed, and was beginning to regret that fact.

Or else he was projecting.

Or both.

“Lt. Carisi, do you have copies of the stipulation?” she asked tiredly.

“Of course, Your Honor,” Carisi said brightly, returning to his table and bringing two copies of the document in question back with him.  “The stipulation of fact, as signed and agreed to by the preceding counsel, Capt. Stone.”

Rafael’s teeth ground together.  Of course it had been  _ Stone _ who had agreed to some kind of cockamamie stipulation.  He scanned the document quickly, fully prepared to ask for a continuance so that he could hunt Stone down and kick his ass for agreeing to this without his knowledge, but to his surprise, he found very little that he could object to.

Namely because the entire thing read like a confession.

Barth’s lips pursed as she glanced through the stipulation, and she looked up at Carisi.  “Lieutenant, you realize that your client is stipulating as a point of fact to the charges leveled against her, correct?”

“Not at all, Your Honor,” Carisi said easily.  “My client is stipulating to a sexual relationship between herself and Ensign Joshua Christoff.  But I’ll leave my explanation beyond that for the appropriate time during trial.”

Barth chuckled lightly before raising an eyebrow at Rafael.  “Maj. Barba, do you have any desire to contradict your superior officer who signed on to this stipulation?”

Rafael had  _ every _ desire to do so, but he also had his win record to think of, so he swallowed his pride and managed a stiff, “No, Your Honor.”

Barth nodded and both men retreated to their respective tables.  “Lt. Peters, please stand, face the trial counsel, and raise your right hand,” Barth said, and Lt. Peters did so, looking at Rafael for the first time.

He was struck by how determined she looked as she raised her right hand, despite the entirety of the case being stacked against her.  Rafael was beginning to see why Carisi had taken this case — and was accordingly feeling a headache building in his temples. “Maj. Barba, please administer the oath to the accused.”

“Lt. Peters, do you swear that the statements you are about to make shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do,” Lt. Peters said, her voice soft.

“Please have the stipulation marked as a Prosecution Exhibit, present it to me, and make sure the accused has a copy,” Barth said, before gesturing for Lt. Peters to sit.  “Lt. Peters, I have here Prosecution Exhibit 1, a stipulation of fact. Did you sign this stipulation?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Lt. Peters said, her voice softer this time.

Something softened in Barth’s expression, and she leaned forward.  “Lt. Peters, a stipulation of fact is an agreement between you and the government that the facts in the stipulation are true.  If the stipulation is entered into evidence, those facts cannot be contradicted by you or the government. You have the absolute right not to enter into this stipulation, and the Court will not accept it without your consent.  Do you understand that?”

This time, Lt. Peter’s voice was louder.  “Yes, Your Honor.”

“Is everything in this stipulation true and correct?”

There was no hesitation.  “Yes, Your Honor.”

Barth looked at her for a long moment before banging her gavel.  “Then the stipulation of fact is accepted into evidence by this Court.  This hearing is adjourned pending member selection for the trial.”

She banged her gavel once more and everyone stood while she swept out of the courtroom, her khaki Marine service dress uniform pristine.  Rafael scrambled to gather his notes together before looking over at Carisi and arching an eyebrow. “Counselor, sidebar,” he said, less a request than an order.

Carisi shrugged and glanced at his client, murmuring something to her before grabbing his own casefile and meeting Rafael in the center aisle.  “Counselor,” he said, with a small smile bordering on a smirk.

Together, they exited the courtroom, and Rafael waited until they were alone before demanding, “What in the hell are you thinking with that stipulation?”

“I was thinking that it’s usually common practice for trial and defense to stipulate on the facts before the trial,” Carisi said easily, and Rafael’s eyes narrowed.

“Stipulate on the facts?” he repeated.  “Your client just admitted in a court of law to having a sexual relationship with an inferior officer.  Congratulations, sailor, you just did my job for me because that right there is the literal definition of fraternization.”

“Oh, Rafael,” Carisi said, a playful edge to his tone, “you really gonna make me cite the legal definition of frat to you?”

Rafael scowled. “That’s ‘major’ to you, Lieutenant,” he snapped, before his mind caught up with what Carisi was alluding to.  “Oh, I get it,” he breathed, the pieces clicking into place. “A relationship alone isn’t necessarily enough to prove fraternization, so you’re going to prove that while the relationship existed, it had no bearing on good order in the unit.”

Carisi’s grin widened.  “Well, I’m gonna try at least.”  He paused, purposefully this time, before adding, “Sir.”

Rafael shook his head slowly, a small, grudging smile crossing his face against his will.  “That’s...an interesting route to take,” he allowed.

Carisi laughed.  “That almost sounded like a compliment.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Rafael warned him.  “Consider it more me admiring your…”

He trailed off, looking for the right way to put it, and Carisi supplied with a small grin, “Suicidal streak?”

Rafael laughed, but it was short-lived.  “You know,” he said, as they started to head back to the office, “if it’s career suicide, you can pass it off to a newbie, someone who’s barely stepped foot out of OCS, let alone NJS.”

“I know Officer Candidate School can’t possibly compare to the Naval Academy, but there’s no need to pick on OCS graduates,” Carisi said mildly, well-used to Rafael’s occasional barbs at the fact that he had attended a clearly inferior institution than Rafael had.  “Besides, suicide’s probably too strong a word. And there is an important point to be made here, regardless of potential career impact.”

For a moment, Rafael was tempted to say something scathing in response to that, but something in the determined look on Carisi’s face stopped him before he could.  “In that case, Lieutenant,” he said, holding the door to the office open for him, “game on.”


	2. Chapter 2

Really,  _ game  _ was the wrong term.

Rafael wasn’t sure what the correct term was, but he was sure whatever was happening wasn’t a game.  All he knew was that for two military attorneys stressed beyond belief and often on antagonistic footing, Rafael found himself laughing quite a bit.  Too much, too often. Too effortlessly when he realized just who had brought it on to begin with.

Sonny Carisi was… not who he expected.  Particularly when he’d first met the man, and even more once he’d gotten to know him.  Well, as much as someone can know someone when trying desperately to not discuss personal things.  Not that Carisi let him off the hook, constantly talking about sisters and parents and nieces and Staten Island.  Probably, it was a good thing that Carmen was there. Aside from her ability to keep them on task, she knew precisely when to make an entrance and interrupt any familial rambling.  A feat which was difficult to accomplish when they spent nearly every day together. 

The collaborative nature of their jobs was something that no longer took him aback after twenty years.  He’d gotten so used to spending time with attorneys he either tolerated for the sake of a decades-long connection somewhat resembling friendship (Rita Calhoun) or barely tolerated for the sake of pursuing justice (John Buchanan).  He’d managed some friendships out of the arrangement. The casual kind, of course. Friends with whom he could drink after work and then go their separate ways without any other part of their lives intersecting. 

Carisi wasn’t that way.

He wasn’t compartmentalized, not like Rafael was.  Not a single coworker other than Carmen even knew Rafael had a mother, whereas everyone in a five block radius knew Carisi had three sisters and two nieces and his parents had been married forty-five years.  An admirable number, to be sure, but Rafael wasn’t sure how that applied to the voir dire that was supposed to be holding their attention at the moment other than the fact that juror 6 had been married for half that.  A fact that Carisi congratulated her for, offering a wide smile and a twinkle of those sky blue eyes, before promptly returning to his table and striking her from the pool. 

Rafael raised a brow.

Carisi met his gaze head on.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Rafael assured him and turned back to his own notes.  “Not sure how you found it in that cotton candy heart to remove a love story from the lineup.”

The lieutenant smirked but his eyes were laughing.

“Not here for love, Major,” he said easily and Rafael paused at the subtle darkening in his tone, breathing pausing in his chest for only a second.  “I’m here to win.”

He didn’t find any words to respond to that - no appropriate ones, anyway - and so he stayed quiet, watched as Carisi scribbled a few notes in a nearly-illegible scrawl before turning his attention back to the jury box.  It was more work than it should have been to turn his eyes away from the lone lines of Carisi’s body in pristine white. Long lines that had too much tone to be considered gangly, slender but not scrawny. Paired with an easygoing presence and bright smile, it was no wonder people responded to him the way they did. 

The jury, especially.

He was confident, affable.  Unpracticed without appearing unprofessional.  It was a demeanor never in Rafael’s toolbox but what he lost in likability he made up for with talent and intensity that kept his conviction rate well above average.  

Granted, Carisi was good.

Carisi beat him more than most others, even if Rafael was still in the lead.

Barely.

He hated how much he liked that.

Hated how much he liked that they worked well together, navigating easily through discovery and evidence as it came up.  Bickering lightly but usually on the same page. They interviewed together, somehow building off of each other despite being opposing counsel with two very different goals.  Teasing out threads of information from witnesses unwilling to offer much more than the bare minimum because despite the uniforms they shared, everyone knew a lawyer stood apart.

He hated how much he liked that that he saw Carisi every day. Or, very nearly.  Sundays were off-limits, set aside for Mass. Still, every morning at zero-eight-hundred, there was Carisi.  Waiting by his office with two cups of coffee and a self-effacing grin because he knew Rafael was going to try and talk him into a plea agreement.  As he did every day, having cleared his first morning appointment for the foreseeable future because surely at one point the stubborn man would give it up and see reason.  Namely, the reason in that they’ve already proven Rafael’s case simply by admitting into evidence the stipulation of fact.

And every day, Carisi refused.

He’d brought Rafael coffee, cheerfully taken each and every meeting, and then refused any and all attempts at an agreement.  There weren’t many persuasion methods Rafael hadn’t tried; starting with arrogant disbelief, careening between flattery and exasperation, and ending with something approximating a threat.  An entirely useless one, considering it was issued in front of the courtroom doors with Carisi’s client in attendance. 

“Thanks but no thanks, Major,” the man said with his mask of bright optimism still firmly in place.  His client wasn’t nearly so sunny, looking morose in her dress uniform with every hair in place and her eyes fixed straight ahead.  “I think we’ll take our chances. After you, Lieutenant Peters.”

She led them into the proceedings and then they didn’t speak again - not directly, anyway.  

He wasn’t sure sniping indirectly counted as speaking.

Carisi’s case hinged on one thing, and one thing alone: what constituted “good order and discipline” of the unit.  To prove fraternization — and subsequent conduct unbecoming — caused by a romantic relationship between two officers of different ranks, the impetus had fallen on Rafael to show that the relationship disrupted good order and discipline, through a few different routes: an action that resulted in actual or apparent preferential treatment, an action that would compromise the chain of command, or an action that called into question a senior officer’s objectivity.

And Carisi had to prove the opposite. 

“Ensign Lee, you have been with Lt. Peters’ unit since the beginning of her relationship with Ens. Christoff, is that correct?”

“Yes, sir,” Ens. Lee said, sitting straight backed on the witness stand, his cover resting on his knee.

Rafael glanced at Barth.  “Your Honor, trial counsel has already stipulated to the ensign’s presence in the unit for the duration of the stipulated relationship.”

Unless Rafael was mistaken, Barth almost rolled her eyes before she looked at Carisi.  “Lt. Carisi, feel free to skip to what hasn’t already been stipulated,” she said with a small sigh.

Carisi didn’t seem thrown off his pace by that.  “So would it be correct to say that you have a good handle on general morale and order within the unit?”

“Objection,” Rafael called, not bothering to look up this time.  “Speculation.”

“I’ll rephrase,” Carisi said, something that might have veered toward irritation in his tone, even if Rafael was probably the only one who picked up on it.  “Ens. Lee, was there any other member of the unit who was present or had witnessed as much of the unit’s morale and order as you had?”

Ens. Lee shook his head.  “No, sir,” he said confidently.  “I was the only one present for the entire relationship.”

Carisi shot a look at Rafael, who ignored him, jotting down notes on the pad of paper in front of him.  “And can you tell the tribunal what impact you witnessed on unit morale following the start of the relationship?”

“There was no impact that I witnessed,” Ens. Lee reported.  “Morale was not affected, nor was order within the unit.”

“No muttering?” Carisi questioned.  “No one saying things behind the lieutenant’s back?”

Lee glanced at Lt. Peters and back at Carisi.  “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Of course,” Carisi said.

“Lt. Peters had a reputation as a hardass, sir,” Lee told him.  “And frankly, that didn’t change after the relationship was revealed.  So there was always muttering, sir, just — not any different than usual.”

“Did Lt. Peters take it easy on Ens. Christoff?” Carisi pressed.  “Did she offer him any special treatment?  Any cushy assignments?”

Lee smirked slightly.  “Unless you consider latrine duty for two months straight to be a cushy assignment…”

Titters broke out through the courtroom and Barth banged her gavel, even though she looked like she was trying not to laugh.  “Defense, instruct your witness to refrain from editorial comments.”

Carisi flashed an apologetic grin at Barth before turning back to Lee.  “To be honest, Ensign, I haven’t cleaned latrines since OCS, but I don’t remember it being a particularly good assignment.”

“That’d be correct, sir,” Lee said with a chuckle.

“So at no point did you witness Lt. Peters giving any preferential treatment, whether directly or indirectly, to Ens. Christoff?”

“No, sir.”

Carisi didn’t smirk or otherwise outwardly show any reaction to that, but Rafael caught the slight deepening of his dimples as he turned back to Rafael, and he took it as the sign of smugness that it was.  “No further questions.  Defense rests.”

Barth glanced at Rafael . “Trial counsel, any rebuttal?”

Rafael stood and smoothed the front of his khaki dress uniform jacket.  “Ens. Lee, you mentioned that you witnessed no preferential treatment, is that correct?”

“Objection,” Carisi called.  “Asked and answered.”

Barth raised an eyebrow at Rafael, who only just managed not to roll his eyes.  “Ens. Lee, you said that Ens. Christoff was assigned two straight months of latrine duty.  Was that hyperbole, or was the ensign actually assigned two straight months of latrine duty?”

Lee’s smirk was back, just slightly.  “He was assigned two straight months of latrine duty.”

“And what is the usual span for latrine duty?”

Lee shrugged.  “Typically we rotate every week, sometimes two, at the executive officer’s discretion.”

“The executive officer being Lt. Peters,” Rafael said, and Lee nodded an affirmation.  “So at her discretion, she assigned Ens. Christoff to two straight months of latrine duty.  Did Lt. Peters ever voice a reason for doing so?”

“Objection!” Carisi said quickly, and Barth looked at him.

“On what grounds, Lieutenant?”  Carisi opened his mouth, but no words came out, and Barth just shook her head.  “Overruled.”

Rafael turned back to Ens. Lee.  “Ensign?”

The ensign squirmed uncomfortably.  “She, uh…” He trailed off before sighing and looking away.  “She told us that she was making him do it to prove she wouldn’t give him preferential treatment.”

“Preferential treatment, of course, being one of the things that disrupts good order and discipline,” Rafael said pleasantly.

“Is there a question there?” Carisi asked sharply, the first sign that he was rattled by the turn of questioning.

Rafael was surprised to find that he didn’t enjoy it as much as he thought he would.

“One of the other things that disrupts good order and discipline would be something that compromises a superior officer’s objectivity, so Ens. Lee, I have to ask: in all the time that you were with the unit, did you ever witness Lt. Peters similarly assign a span of latrine duty to any other individual under her command?”

“No, sir.”

Lee’s voice was soft, lacking the almost arrogant edge it had previously held, and Rafael nodded.  “Meaning that she explicitly showed subjectivity in dealing with Ens. Christoff, correct?”

“Objection!”

This time, Rafael didn’t wait for Barth.  “Withdrawn,” he said, turning to walk back to the trial counsel table.  “No further questions.”

Before Barth could even utter the word ‘surrebuttal’, Carisi was on his feet.  “Ens. Lee, did you or any of your fellow officers ever feel that Lt. Peters was dealing with Ens. Christoff in an unfair manner?”

“No, sir,” Ens. Lee said instantly, but Rafael knew it didn’t matter.

This was the military, after all.

And perception mattered more than anything else.

* * *

 

The members took only an hour to deliberate. 

Rafael had expected as much, and so was unsurprised by how quickly they returned.  Given the look on Carisi’s face when they were reconvened, he too had expected as much.

Judging by the way Lt. Peters’ shoulders hunched forward when she watched the members file in, she, too, knew what was coming.

And Rafael thought it was to her credit that she stood straight-backed and proud while Barth asked the president of the panel of members, “Lt. Commander Barker, has the Court reached findings in this case?”

“We have, Your Honor,” Lcdr. Barker confirmed, her eyes flitting over to Lt. Peters for just a moment before looking back at Barth.

“Please announce the findings of the Court.”

Lcdr. Barker straightened as she read off the piece of paper in front of her.  “On the charges of fraternization and conduct unbecoming, we find the accused guilty.”

Rafael didn’t look at Lt. Peters.

He didn’t think he would be able to handle what he would inevitably see.

Barth’s expression didn’t change, as Rafael knew it wouldn’t.  She was a consummate professional who had been through too many of these hearings to be affected by something as minor as this.  Of course, so had Rafael, and yet he still felt something like guilt ball in the pit of his stomach.

“Members of the Court,” Barth continued steadily, “at this time we will begin the sentencing phase of the trial. The maximum punishment that may be adjudged in this case is dismissal from the service.”  She looked over at the members of the jury.  “The maximum punishment is a ceiling on your discretion.  You are at liberty to arrive at any lesser legal sentence.  You are advised that a sentence to a dismissal of a commissioned officer is, in general, the equivalent of a dishonorable discharge of an enlisted service member.  A dismissal deprives one of substantially all benefits administered by the Department of Veterans Affairs.  It should be reserved for those who, in the opinion of the Court, should be separated under conditions of dishonor after conviction of serious offenses of a civil or military nature warranting such severe punishment.”

Again Barth looked at the jury.  “Are there any questions before you begin deliberations on sentencing?”

None of the members had any questions, and Barth looked between Rafael and Carisi, whose hand was resting heavily on Lt. Peters’ shoulder.  “Does trial or defense counsel have any additional motions to make at this time?”

“No, Your Honor,” Rafael said quietly, and Carisi shook his head as he echoed, “No, ma’am.”

“Then members will be sequestered for deliberation and this Court will stand at ease until such a time as members have decided upon a sentence.  Lt. Peters will remain in confinement until a sentence has been handed down.”

Barth banged her gavel, and only then did Lt. Peters sag against Carisi, her face ashen.  Carisi rubbed her arm soothingly, muttering something reassuring, but Lt. Peters didn’t seem to listen, instead twisting to look wildly among the people exiting the courtroom.

Rafael knew who she was looking for, and he knew she wouldn’t find him.  Ens. Christoff had been barred from the proceedings by his commanding officer.  And there was a good chance that, for as long as they both were in the service, Lt. Peters and Ens. Christoff would be barred from seeing each other in any capacity.

As the bailiff came to collect Lt. Peters, Rafael couldn’t quite stop himself from taking a step forward.  “Lieutenant,” he said, his voice quiet, and when Lt. Peters looked at him, her blue eyes — so similar in shade to Carisi’s, not that Rafael made it a point of thinking too much about Carisi’s eyes — wet, he lost his nerve to say what he wanted to.  “I’m sorry,” he said instead.

Lt. Peters ducked her head and nodded.  “Yes, sir,” she said, a little gruffly.  “So am I.”

Then she was gone, and Rafael went back to his table to numbly slip his papers back into his briefcase. 

This was the worst part of his job, a case like this, and normally, he would have already put it from his mind, ready to move on to the next case, the next issue.  Especially when there were so many greater injustices.

But while this case was against the Uniform Code, and Rafael was duty-bound to prosecute it, something with it had struck home with him in a way very few cases had, especially in recent years

And perhaps it shouldn’t surprise him, then, that as he joined the crush of bodies around him as everyone stood and moved toward the courtroom doors, he felt something warm and strong grip his hand, with something like quiet understanding in the touch.

Rafael would have known the hand that gripped his, however briefly, from every other in the room.  In a heartbeat it was gone and Rafael mourned the loss of Carisi’s skin on his own.

“Not here,” Rafael said under his breath and the man appeared next to him, tall and solemn.  The sight made Rafael straighten up, feeling the man’s tension even in his own shoulders, and regard Carisi with a curt nod.  “We’ll speak later, Lieutenant.”

The younger officer’s expression was unreadable.

“Yes, sir.”

And then he was gone.

* * *

 

Their moment came later that evening, after Carmen had seen herself home to be with her wife and their young son, and even after the cleaning staff had finished their duties and left the building.  He supposed the guards were in place, but they had so little use for the JAG corps that they mostly ignored each other.  It was an arrangement Rafael preferred, especially when three short raps sounded on the glass of his door.

“Come in,” he called out, setting his pen down and capping it; knowing already no more work would be done that night, no more points argued and no more names signed.

“I hope I’m not interrupting, Major,” Carisi said as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, “but you know what time it is, right?”

“After sunset.”

“Right.”

“Before sunrise.”

Carisi chuckled and Rafael felt it sing through bones that had been exhausted only minutes before. 

“Right again,” he said and Rafael found himself admiring the wry grin to stretch the man’s full lips.  “Have you ever left the building before dark?”

Rafael scoffed.  “Not that I recall.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised.”

Rafael sat back in his seat and examined Carisi closely.  “Carmen said that you were trying to prove a point.”

If Carisi was thrown by the sudden segue, he didn’t show it, merely shrugging as he dropped into the chair across from Rafael’s desk.  “I was.”

“Jury didn’t seem to buy it.”

Rafael said it casually enough, but with just a hint of the curiosity he had felt ever since he had learned Carisi was defending on the case.

Carisi just shrugged again.  “They weren’t the ones I was trying to prove a point to.”

Rafael sighed, already knowing where this argument was going, having had this same argument so many times already over the past two years that he could practically perform it from memory at this point.  “Sonny…”

“Don’t take that tone of voice with me, Major,” Carisi said, something light and teasing in his tone.

“And what tone would that be?” Rafael shot back.

“Like you think you already know what I’m gonna say, and you’re already gonna refute it.”  Rafael opened his mouth to object before realizing that was exactly what he had been going to do, and shut his mouth abruptly. Carisi’s smirk softened.  “See?” he said, lifting himself out of the chair and crossing over to lean down and press a light kiss to Rafael’s forehead.  “I know you just as well as you know me, Rafael.”

He perched on the edge of Rafael’s desk and Rafael sighed again, reaching out to lace his fingers with Carisi’s.  “Fine then,” he huffed, with no real heat.  “What point were you trying to make?”

“That we’re guilty of the same thing,” Carisi said bluntly.  “Don’t you ever feel like a hypocrite?”

“Every single day,” Rafael said honestly, and Carisi’s grip on his hand tightened for just a moment.

“Then how—”

“Because it’s my job, Lieutenant,” Rafael said firmly, pulling his hand away from Carisi’s.  “Because everyday I put on this uniform and I uphold the oath that I took, which includes prosecuting those who break that oath.  And while I may not agree with everything in the Uniform Code, that doesn’t mean I get to pick and choose who I prosecute.”  Something darkened in his expression.  “Besides, I had barely made it out of the Academy and The Basic School when Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell was implemented.  I’ve spent my entire military career as a hypocrite, and I made my peace with it a long time ago.”

Carisi ducked his head, and Rafael reached out again to trace a light finger over Carisi’s knee before lacing their fingers together once more.  “But you already know that,” he said quietly.  “So what point were you actually trying to make?”

“That I’d do the same thing,” Carisi said, looking up to meet Rafael’s eyes squarely.  “This wasn’t just about Lt. Peters.  If I were in her position, I’d do the exact same thing, and I wouldn’t take a frat charge lying down.”

Despite himself, the corners of Rafael’s mouth twitched.  “As the subordinate officer, you likely wouldn’t be the one charged—”

“Because you’re worth fighting for,” Carisi continued doggedly, as if Rafael hadn’t spoken.  “Because I think this is worth fighting for.  And in the end, there’s nothing that the Navy could do to me that would convince me otherwise.”

Rafael’s throat felt tight with unexpected emotion, and it took him a moment to be able to speak.  “Not even dismissing you from the service?” he managed, a touch bitterly.

“You and I both know that Lt. Peters is not gonna be dismissed,” Carisi scoffed.  “Fined, probably, and moved to a different unit and base.  At worst she’s facing administrative separation.”

“Moving to a different base isn’t exactly something I’d relish,” Rafael started.  Carisi made a face, but before he could interrupt, Rafael continued, “But you’re right.  It’d be worth it.” Carisi brightened in a way that even after all this time made Rafael’s heart leap in his chest, and he couldn’t resist tugging Carisi down to him and kissing him.

“I love you,” Carisi murmured, and Rafael half-smiled.

“And I, you.”  He paused, mulling over if now was the time to say what he wanted to.  “And speaking of my decades-long hypocrisy, Carmen reminded me the other day that I’m only four years from 30 years of service.”

Carisi frowned, his forehead wrinkling.  “What are you saying?” he asked slowly.

Rafael met his gaze evenly.  “You know what I’m saying.”

“Raf—”

“Just think about it,” Rafael said quietly.

Carisi smiled slightly, his dimples deepening just slightly.  “Is that an order, Major?”

“I’m serious,” Rafael said quietly.  “No more sneaking around.  No more pretending.”

Shaking his head just slightly, Carisi asked, with a forced levity, “What, you don’t want to be colonel?”

“Please,” Rafael scoffed.  “I’d never get the promotion.  I haven’t played politics well enough for it.”

“And what would you do in retirement?” Carisi asked mildly.  “Take up knitting?”

Rafael barked a laugh at that.  “Hell if I know,” he admitted.  “I just know…”  He trailed off and slowly shook his head.  “I just know that after almost thirty years in the service, it’s about time for me to move on.”

Carisi examined him closely for a long moment, something unreadable in his guileless blue eyes.  “Well,” he said, “then I promise I’ll think about it.”  He glanced behind him at the files open on Rafael’s desk.  “You about done here?”

“Soon,” Rafael assured him.  “Just one thing left to finish.”

Carisi nodded and stood, leaning in to press a kiss to Rafael’s temple.  “Then I’ll see you at home.”  Rafael sighed and Carisi quickly amended, “At your home, I mean.”

Rafael closed his eyes at the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him, at the emotion he had felt clawing up his throat the entire day — the monumental  _ unfairness _ of the entire situation, of the fact that Carisi was the best man he’d ever had the luck to meet, let alone to fall in love with, and all he wanted more than anything in the world was to be able to share a home with him, to kiss him in public, hell, to hold his hand after a hard day in court.

And because of the sheer fact of the uniform they both wore, he couldn’t.

But Carisi was smiling at him, his dimples creasing his cheeks and his blue eyes shining, and Rafael knew that no matter how unfair the entire thing was, he wouldn’t give it up for anything, not even the threat of the charges he had delivered on that day alone.

“What’re you looking at me like that for?” Carisi asked, still smiling.

“Nothing,” Rafael told him, before adding, “I love you.”

Carisi’s smile softened.  “Love you, too.” He started toward the door, then paused.  “So hurry the fuck up and get home, okay?”

Rafael glanced up at him, amused.  “Is that an order, Lieutenant?”

Carisi smirked.  “I’d never presume to order around a superior officer,” he said mockingly, before adding, with just enough pause to tell Rafael that he knew  _ exactly _ what it did to him, “Sir.”

“That’s what I thought, sailor,” Rafael said, and when Carisi’s smirk didn’t fade, he added under his breath, “Insubordination.”  Carisi laughed and Rafael grinned before confirming, “I’ll see you at home.”

Carisi nodded and left, closing the door to Rafael’s office behind him, and Rafael sat back in his seat, his small smile lingering on his face.  Even if it made him a hypocrite, even if it was the textbook definition of conduct unbecoming an officer, Rafael knew that he had meant every word he had said: Sonny was without question worth disgracing the uniform he wore.

And that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always to everyone who's come on this AU journey with us! We loved writing this (even if RH knows more about military court martials now than she literally ever needed to know), and we hope you enjoyed too (especially the mental images of these boys in uniform)!


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